


Words

by surrender



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/M, Fluff, early deanee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 07:45:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5197913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surrender/pseuds/surrender
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean never had a hard time with words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank everyone who left kudos and comments on my past work. It's been very encouraging.
> 
>  
> 
> This started out as something completely different. I appreciate your feedback!

Dean was always complimented on his way with words. He knew how to get heard. He knew how to make so much noise that everyone paid attention. He was able to lift people up, destroy their very core, and then have them cowering away. All within the span of a two minute promo. His words were what got him signed to WWE. When they thought he didn't look right, or wrestle in their style; when they said he was too 'rough around the edges', all he had to do was open his mouth. And they listened. Even if they didn't like it, he had them. They weren't going to consider brushing him aside.

He never had a hard time with words. Never stumbled or stuttered. He learned a long time ago that hesitation only ever got you beat up. So he hurled out challenges and insults and never once backed down. He learned to yell so no one could tell when his voice cracked with words that passed through his throat like jagged glass. Talking was his way of protecting himself. From street thugs, bullies, and the thoughts that threatened to rip him up from the inside. He was comfortable in the shadows of alleys that smelled like piss, some guy’s cellphone in his face, recording as he rambled. He talked about his mother. He talked about the drug dealers, the people that hurt him, that took from him. He talked about all the shit that he thought would break him if he ever dug it up. Everything came rushing out without a trace of hesitation. It was easy. And people loved and feared him for it.

When he started with WWE, words got him everything he wanted. If his boys didn’t like a booking decision, he was their mouthpiece. If he wanted a fight, he knew exactly how to get under someone’s skin. If he wanted some allies, he knew how to make it seem like it was their choice to help him out. And definitely, if he wanted to get a girl’s attention, he knew how to sweet talk his way right into her arms. Words were Dean’s weapon and he knew how to use it with 100% accuracy.  


But then Renee came along and fucked it all up.  


He wanted to be mad at her for it, but even his default of aggression failed when it came to Renee. She was all soft hair and eyes that sparkled- fucking sparkled- when she looked his way. She was a sharp tongue and witty comebacks. She threw him off his game every time he thought he had something clever to say. She called him out on his shit-talk. She gave just as good as she could take. And for the first time Dean was stammering and stumbling over his words, just to get a smile out of her. For the first time he had no idea what to say. He stood around like an idiot with a goofy smile on his face just because she complimented him on a match. It didn’t take long for Roman and Seth to notice. The knowing nudges and glances every time he tried-and failed- to ask her out made him want to punch their faces in. But then Renee would look at him, and _his_ face would split into a grin without his permission.  


  


Words were Dean’s weapon, but they failed him that night during Raw when Renee came up to him and said:

“Drinks after this?”

All he could do was nod.


End file.
